


When I Close My Eyes

by Amurtinyburr12



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Protective Bucky Barnes, sad Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amurtinyburr12/pseuds/Amurtinyburr12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a hard time sleeping at night. When he's alone in the dark with just his thoughts it's harder to ignore everything that's happened in the past 70+ years. Bucky is always with him until the end of the line, though Steve may not always realize it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Close My Eyes

It was the night time that got under Steve's skin, the thing that pestered and nagged at him the most.

During the daytime, when he was fighting and  _doing_ things he could push away his thoughts and focus on his current task. Anything related to his past he could ignore when there was something else to concentrate on. But when it was just him, a silent and darkened room and his own painful memories... 

Steve didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he was scared. He was afraid of being afraid, afraid of all the things that had happened...but most importantly? He was afraid for Bucky.

Aside from being frightened, he's  _angry_ with  _himself_ for losing his best friend. Until the end of the line, he'd  _promised_ and yet he hadn't been there when HYRDA took him captive and swiped away his memories. The super soldier can't imagine what they might have done with him, to reduce him to the confused and shattered shell of a man he'd been when Steve faced him again.

_"Who the hell is Bucky?"_

The rational part of Rogers knows that there isn't any way he could have figured out that Bucky was alive, no possible time he'd be fortunate enough to glean that bit of information. HYDRA knew that if he got word then there would be no place on earth they could hide from him, not one safe place to shelter while they had his best friend in their sadistic possession.

But Steve can wish, and he  _wishes_ he'd known. He hates himself for not being there when he needed him and that guilt has been eating him alive since the day he first discovered that Bucky was alive. 

For probably the first time in his life, Steve felt sorry for himself. It had never really bothered him before, how weak he'd been pre-serum because he'd always known he could do better. But now, looking back at the events, he can't comprehend why life would throw these hurtles into his path, for the fun of watching him struggle perhaps but he just can't do it anymore. Hasn't he been doing the right thing? Fighting for his beliefs? Saving the world? And just as he'd finally managed to struggle into this new tech filled world and adjust to this crazy new life destiny decides to do something cruel and throws an insane Bucky back into his world, tilting the balance once more.

Steve can't decide what he wants. To stay awake all night fighting memories or fall asleep and relive the past anyways. Neither sounds like a comfortable option, but life doesn't care what  _he_ wants. 

He's never been the weak-minded type. Steve is strong, clever, and capable. Fending off day visions was something he felt he should have been able to control, something he'd be able to get a handle on and make sure it didn't happen. Day visions were a lot like hallucinations, and probably were exactly that, but Steve went through them by reliving his former days before he'd crashed in the plane. Everything felt real, looked real and that's what made it that much harder for him.

 In the beginning, when he'd been recently reintroduced into the world he'd these visions frequently, almost always reliving his last talk with Peggy, right before plane met solid ice. As Steve adjusted to this new life, the hallucinations would grow fewer and fewer until he found that after an entire month there had been none. When he saw Bucky by that bridge...that's when they came back- this time consisting of Bucky and his own childhood memories and _always_ ending after Bucky had slipped from the train.

Steve tries to fight it at first, but it doesn't take long before his own scattered and feeble mind can't continue the willpower to stop the day vision, and with white knuckles clutching the wooden chair which he's currently perched upon he shuts his eyes the instant he is whisked away to revisit the 1900's. 

_"Steve! Get down! It's a grenade!" Bucky's voice shrills through the air as Steve Rogers peers over the top of the garbage heap, scanning for enemy soldiers._

_He glances around quickly, eyes darting left and right._

_"I don't see it!" He shouts back in slight confusion, still looking about. Bucky stands from where he'd been scouting ahead and rushes forward, grabbing Steve by the shoulder and pulling him as gently and quickly as he can into a corner. The boy tosses a rock as he does so, pushing Steve away from where the rock grenade surely would have blown him to bits. Bucky turns back to the rock then falls dramatically, spluttering and gasping._

_"Bucky! Bucky no!" Steve's eyes are wide with concern as he rushes forward, dropping to his hands in knees in the dirt so that rocks press into the soft flesh. "Bucky?" He gives his friend a shake._

_Bucky heaves an enormous breath from where he lies on the ground and looks into Steve's eyes, his right arm twitching slightly. "Tell my mom I love her...and tell my country that I died for them." Bucky coughs then lets his head fall back to the ground, causing a puff of dust to spring forward and fill Steve's nostrils. "For the safety of the people..."_

_Steve nods solemnly, choking back his own coughs from the dust, watching the fallen soldier quietly. When when he's quite sure Bucky has 'died' he buries his head (lightly) on his chest and silently grieves the passing of a war hero._

_Bucky sits up after a few seconds, giving Steve an amused look before climbing to his feet. "You know, I wish we didn't have to pretend we were soldiers. I'd rather we just be soldiers already so we can go help fight in the war."_

_Steve gets up as well, dusting himself off with his hands before looking at his friend in the eye. "Someday, we will. We can both be on the front line together, defending innocent people from bullies." A sudden doubt wiggles its way into Steve's mind and he can't help but voice it. "We...we will be friends still, right Bucky?"  
_

_Of course Steve would have insecurities. He wasn't exactly the best looking boy to look at, not well built, asthmatic and small while Bucky seemed to be the exact opposite.._

_The other boy looks completely taken aback, staring at Steve with uncomprehending eyes. "Steve, we're gonna be friends forever." He says in a sincere voice, moving his hand to rest it on his friend's shoulder. "I'm with you until the end of the line."_

There were various times Steve was doubtful of his capability to be a good friend to Bucky. Bucky was  _always_ a good friend to him, rescuing him from bullies, looking out for him, setting him up with dates that Steve knew could never work out because those dames only were polite enough to go anywhere with him because Bucky requested they do. Steve was never sure what made him stick around, but he was determined to pay it all back. 

_Steve was always sick as a child, even in his teenage years he was maybe three times as strong as newborn baby. The constant fevers and trembling could mean that Bucky might watch him up into an entire week. Even though his parents warned him not to go, shaking their heads and asking why he put himself at risk to catch anything, Bucky continued visiting Steve when he was ill. Steve's mom was constantly working, trying to earn dollars to pay for their house, their food and Steve's medical bills. So Bucky was the one that held Steve's hand through the worst coughing fits, put a wet cloth on his forehead and held him tightly when he cried. Bucky was like Steve's protector, and while he could physically protect Steve from jerks on the street, he could only be there as comfort when Steve battled his sickness on his own. He still stuck around though, heating broth on his family's stove (Steve's was too poor to own one) and running the mile to Steve's apartment as fast as he could so the broth would still be warm when he got there. He knew that Steve didn't like to be a burden, so sometimes Bucky reminded him that he didn't mind helping at all, and he'd do anything for his best friend. At night, when it got cold and his mother hadn't come home Bucky arranged the covers around Steve so his chin was tucked on top and he was wrapped in a such a way that no heat would escape and he would be as toasty as he could be on those cold nights. There was only one blanket in that house, so Bucky always brought some over from his own room and heaped them all on top of Steve, praying he would get better._

Steve is struggling with this, _struggling with everything that's happened._ He misses Bucky, he misses his best friend. He wished...he wishes it had been different.

 _"BUCKY!"_ _A strangled heart-wretching scream tears itself from his lips as his best friend locks eyes with his own. It's almost in slow motion, how the bar gives way on the train, and Buck's flailing his arms to try and grab onto something- anything- but there is nothing within reach to grasp onto. Steve feels the horrible thud of helplessness slam into his gut, and there's nothing he can do but watch as his best friend, the one who he promised he'd be with until the end of the line is falling away from him, desperately screaming his name. It's the worst moment of Steve's life, and he's reliving the feeling of being a horrible friend. He didn't save him... he stood there as Bucky struggled to get back to him._

_Until the end of the line._

_Was this the end of the line?_

"Steve...I'm with you. Until the end of the line."

The voice is clear, a little scratchy, but those are the familiar words that pain and haunt Steve so badly every night. Steve's crying when he opens his eyes again, shaking away the vision with a slow jerk of his head. Somehow he's gotten off the chair and he's holding half of the chair legs in his left hand as he sits trembling on the roughly carpeted floor. His emotions are jarred, Bucky's fall fresh in his memory as if it happened yesterday and not seven decades ago... He should be out there, finding Bucky. He had been, for the past few weeks without any leads. Unfortunately, four days without sleep and constant searching finally caught up with his body and he was forced to rent a room in a motel and put the search on hold. He hated that he'd been so weak as to stop looking for his friend just so he could do something like sleep.

Steve wasn't worried about what happened to him. He had no room for that. He worried for Bucky, because whatever had happened to his best friend had to have been _awful._  It's something he doesn't want to think about, something he  _can't_ bring himself to think about. 

After a few seconds of staring at the broken chair in his hands, he sets them down on the floor and stands, hobbling over to the little bed, which is much to small for him and collapsing on top of the small quilt, quivering and trying his best not to cry anymore. 

"I'll find you Bucky," He promises the dark room around him, then reluctantly closes his eyes and drifts into sleep.

\- - Extra scene: - -

Steve wakes to the stuffiness of his blankets. He blinks away the sleep from his eyes, yawning but stops abruptly when he realizes that he is cocooned in a burrito of blankets. They are wrapped so snugly and tightly that he's warm and comfy. There is only one person in the world who ever tucked him into bed like this.

Steve's breath hitches and he dares to believe...

His attention is drawn to the window. Light streams through the cheap glass, dust is gathered on the sill. But that isn't what he'd noticed. No.

A single strand of brown hair lies trapped between the sill and the glass.

The window is cracked partially open.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on Marvel stuff. Not sure what else to say.
> 
> Looking back on this, it kinda sucks. Sorry


End file.
